ONE NIGHT IN ORLANDO
by Rebel8954
Summary: "I did have it won," Seth grunted. "Damn Lashley. And if Lio doesn't stay out of it, I'm dragging his ass home and give him to Kevin to use as a chew toy." Roman loudly laughed. Seth's rants were usually guaranteed to be funny. Aftermath of RAW 1/7/2019. Sequel to ONE NIGHT IN DETROIT.


' _You don't think it hurts me, more than you know, to have to hurt Seth?'_

Roman Reigns had watched Dean's promo with a myriad of emotions. He saw Dean pacing back and forth, obviously struggling with himself and his own emotions. **That** was the Dean Ambrose that he knew. Not the silent in control stranger his brother had become. Seeing that familiar pacing had brought a smile to Roman's face.

' _I never liked six-man tags anyway.'_

"Actually, Dean, you always got a kick out of them," Roman muttered. He was forming his own working theory about Dean Ambrose and Jon Moxley based on the clues he was sure Ambrose had no idea he was tossing out. He was pretty sure Seth was in the dark, however. His youngest brother was too close to the situation.

' _I'm gonna burn Seth Rollins down.'_

Roman chuckled. "Well, you'll give it a good try."

He'd watched their match with more than a little enjoyment. He'd always loved watching them in the ring. As allies or as enemies. The magic was still there. But the ending to the match infuriated him. He wasn't all that surprised that Lashley interfered, but the IC match was none of Lashley's business.

Roman had winced when Lashley sent Seth through the table. It was clear Lashley wasn't holding back and say what you would about Lashley…the man was strong as an ox. He'd frowned seeing Seth wince as he slowly left the ring and walked towards the back, holding his ribs. Had he been there, he would've seen how Lashley liked getting both a Superman punch **and** a Spear.

He glanced at the clock on the bedside table then reached for his phone. Time enough after the show that people would be available to talk. It was time to reach out and touch his brothers.

 **xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Dean Ambrose sat in the quiet of his dressing room, enjoying the silence after the roar of the crowd. Peace. Quiet. He knew that Renee didn't always understand his need for this time of peace and quiet. But she accepted it as part of him that had changed over the past year. She would catch a ride after the show with one of her many friends until their travel schedules allowed them to meet up the following week.

He suddenly jerked when his phone unexpectedly rang. He glanced at the display and frowned. "Roman?" he murmured. He thought about letting it go to voice mail but was answering the call before he'd completed the thought. "Hey, Roman. Everything okay?"

"Congratulations on retaining that belt," Roman cheerfully replied.

Dean looked at his phone and frowned for a few seconds before putting it back to his ear. "Uh…thanks?"

Roman chuckled. "You sound surprised."

"I am," Dean admitted. "Figured you'd be rooting for Rollins." He leaned back against the wall.

"Was rooting for both of you," Roman answered. "Falls Count Anywhere matches are fun to watch."

Dean rubbed his forehead and tried to stretch his neck. "Didn't ask Lashley to interfere," he grumbled.

"I know." Roman calmly replied. "That's not your style."

Dean leaned forward and closed his eyes. "Roman…" he softly said after a few seconds. Then he sat up and opened his eyes. "Look, thanks for calling. I gotta get moving before they lock me in for the night."

"Wouldn't want **that** to happen," Roman chuckled. "Give Renee a shout out for me."

"I will," Dean muttered as he rubbed his forehead again. "You…you doin' okay?" he hesitantly asked.

"Don't worry about me," Roman answered. "Concentrate on keeping that belt and on the Rumble."

"Yeah, right…um…bye." Dean disconnected the call and tossed the phone onto the bench next to him. "Damn headache," he muttered.

It wasn't until he was walking out of the building that he realized Roman hadn't answered his question.

 **xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Seth Rollins answered the phone quickly once he saw the display light up. "Roman? Everything okay?"

"Gonna ask you the same question," Roman chuckled. "You **did** let the trainers check you out, right?"

"Yeah," Seth grunted. "Bruised ribs. Tried to write me out of the next two house shows, but we compromised. I'm gonna tag up with Finn."

"Good." Roman relaxed. He knew Finn would watch out for Seth in the ring. "You know you gotta take care of Lashley before you can get that IC belt back from Ambrose. Although I really thought you had it won tonight."

"I did have it won," Seth grunted. "Damn Lashley. And if Lio doesn't stay out of it, I'm dragging his ass home and give him to Kevin to use as a chew toy."

Roman loudly laughed. Seth's rants were usually guaranteed to be funny. "I'm sure Kevin would appreciate it," he finally replied. He hesitated, then continued, "Did you see Ambrose's promo?"

"No, not interested," Seth flatly answered. When Roman remained silent, he added, "It's a distraction I don't need right now."

"Okay, your decision. I just think otherwise," Roman sighed. "So…you think Lashley's going to haunt you?"

"Yeah, and it doesn't make sense," Seth grumbled. "I'd understand it if I had the IC belt. He should've waited until I'd won it before coming after me."

"Good point," Roman frowned. "So why didn't he?"

"There's the million dollar question." Seth put his glasses on the beside table and leaned back against the headboard of his bed. "He should be going after Ambrose."

"If Lashley's coming after you, who's going to challenge him for the IC belt?" Roman mused.

"I dunno. I'd love to see Finn go after it, but he's got unfinished business with that sheep-loving chest-beating long-winded buffoon from Scotland."

Roman chuckled. He missed Seth's rants. "Maybe John Cena can take care of him so Finn can go after the IC belt," he suggested.

Seth hummed, obviously thinking about it.

"Get some rest," Roman advised. "I just wanted to be sure you're okay…and sorry you didn't get the belt back."

Seth sighed. "Maybe…for the best. Now I can concentrate on winning the Rumble." He paused, then continued, "Roman, you don't gotta worry. I'm okay. Put that energy onto getting well. We miss you."

Roman was silent for a few seconds. "Thanks, Seth. I appreciate that. And I hear you."

"Yeah, well, hearing me is fine," Seth snarked. "But doing what I tell you is even better."

Roman snickered. He **really** missed Seth's rants. "Yes, sir. Message received."

"Roman…"

"I'll give your love to the family. Sleep well and take care of those ribs."

"Roman!"

"Bye."

Seth heard his older brother laughing as he disconnected the call. Damn, he missed Roman.

 **xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

"The pilot advises we should have clearance for take off within a few minutes."

Triple H looked up and silently nodded. "Once we get to cruising altitude, could I get a sandwich and some coffee?"

The flight attendant smiled. "Roast beef with mustard on whole wheat?"

"You know me so well," Hunter grinned.

As the attendant walked away, he looked out the window of the private jet. His thoughts weren't on the upcoming NXT Takeover event in the UK but on the recently completed episode of RAW.

If Lio Rush saw himself and Bobby Lashley as the next Paul Heyman and Brock Lesnar, he was severely delusional. Lashley should have waited until Rollins won back the IC title before attacking him. Either Rush didn't have as much control over Lashley as he claimed or he was playing his own game.

Neither option inspired a lot of confidence. Still, Hunter reflected, Rollins didn't have the IC title and now he had both Ambrose and Lashley coming after him. Not a bad night's work, he admitted.

As the plane began to roll back from gate, Hunter made sure his seatbelt was secure. His nickname of the 'Cerebral Assassin' had been legitimately earned. He had a long memory, and it was time the 'Kingslayer' was reminded of that fact.


End file.
